The Last Black Angel
by Kurogane7
Summary: AU: The turns that life can take, and for young Vincent, this is especially so. After everything he had seen thus far, he never thought he'd end up a slave... Rated M for later chapters.
1. Best Friends

_**A/N: I seem to have an affinity for fantasy-setting stories with Asian references (mostly Sino-Japanese). This story had been boiling in my head for a while…ever since I learned that "Slave" (both the re-write and the original) were not big successes…and I've not done this style of AU since "Biwa and Ninja" which is on hiatus until I get inspiration on how to finish it good and proper. In any case, do read and review, would you kindly?**_

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A straw basket was flowing down a river…the package was breathing—it was obvious to anybody that this package was alive. The basket itself seemed to be made with loving care—as if the maker had expected that the package within. Flowing next to the basket itself and gripping onto it tightly was the body of a woman. It was obvious that she was still fighting for life, grasping onto the basket with what little energy she had left. The woman lifted her head gently, and floated her body towards a nearby rock with the basket being pushed in the same direction—her wounds be damned, she was going to see to it that that baby was going to make it, even if she would die herself. Her only regret was that she would not be alive to see the child grow up…she would not see her child become a man…nor would she see her possible grandchildren…no, instead she'll be making this journey to the afterlife, and too soon for this to happen.

Fortune had smiled upon her as the rocks happened to be near a shore—if only she would just live at least long enough to get there…as she lay there, floating she began to think back on everything that had led up to the moment she would be leaving her son early and against her will. The fortunate thing here is that at least she would die free instead of living like a slave because of those slavers capturing her people almost a week ago; some of the men being killed but all of the women and children were definitely going to become sex-slaves or worse…something she shuddered to think about the possible fate of the former, but her feelings of rage on the possible fate of the latter were clear in her eyes despite the weakness of her body. As the feeling of washing up upon the shore was felt upon her back, the woman refused to leave her son without at least a token of his heritage and her love and that of his father.

Once she opened her eyes wider for the last time, she noted someone coming towards her…it was a man in a black suit and a red cape—his eyes were a brownish-hazel color, and the trim of his clothes suggested he was a wealthy man. Whoever he was, she simply kept her eyes in dangerous slits to make believe that she was already dead—while watching for the well-being of her son, she noted that he had a sympathetic look on his face before he carried her over his shoulder in the same manner as a firefighter. The man simply walked in the opposite direction, and as it turns out, he was walking towards an ancient temple of sorts with monks still studying in it. As she studied the man in her final moments, the woman came to realize that this man had meant the child no harm…that he sincerely wanted to help. With that on mind, she closed her eyes, and allowed the eternal slumber to consume her.

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Count Valentine had started donating money and spending his summers at the temple a long time ago—while he was not a believer in the traditional faith of the Wutainese kingdoms, especially in the case of the monks in these mountains, the sense of genuine spirituality and serenity that the place gave him put him at peace with his suffering. The loss of Lucrecia was a very devastating blow to him, and the fact that Sephiroth had spent most of his time with his fellow soldiers and becoming distant because of it had only served to remind him of what he should have done to not be in such a manner…and it was only after the death of his wife did he realize the error of his ways and regretted his actions of the past. As he walked down to the river on his routine walks simply to listen to the calming sounds of the water traveling over the rocks wash over him. What he did not expect to see was the dead body of a woman washed up on the shore of where he usually took his walks, and a basket that was breathing—obvious sign that there was a child in that basket.

He walked carefully up to the corpse, and studied the body. The woman had a form that any other would have sold their souls off for—complimented by the raven-colored silk curtain that was her hair. This woman may have had a high social standing wherever she was from, if her elegant and flowing gold-trimmed red robes were mixed in with a good deal of practicality mixed into its design. Yes, this was a very beautiful woman indeed…a shame that she was dying. As he looked on at the child in the basket, he could tell that the baby was a boy—who would grow up to be every bit as beautiful as his mother. He looked around and found that there was nobody to help them. Perhaps this one good deed would be good enough to help him put his past behind him—a first step in his long and arduous road to redemption.

As he continued up to the temple, Grimoire was only filled with a sense of urgency. He had to hurry if he was to save this boy and his mother…

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Thirteen years later…

A black-haired young man in black monk's robes, gray hakama, and white socks sat by the river, meditating. This was part of his training in the art of kyudo…where meditation was focused in each and every procedure of the art, from loading the arrow onto the bowstring, all the way up to releasing the string and firing the arrow at the target. There was no mistaking that every aspect of the art was very calming. In addition to his training with the yumi longbow, he was also trained in the basic arts of self-defense using a variety of weapons should he be in a situation where his bow would not be of much use. This was due to the fact that the temple he lived in housed an order of militant monks as evidenced by the sound of the monks practicing their kiai in tandem with their kata.

Among the young initiates in the temple, he was already what one would call a prodigy. His academics and understanding of the religion were rather high, his martial arts capabilities placed him among the top tier among the other students, and he spent most of his spare time playing either go or shogi or meditating near the river usually with one of the stringed instruments. While there were those among his peers that looked up to him and sought to better themselves in his image, there were those in the monastery that were envious of him and sought to surpass him. The head abbot was about to discourage such thoughts, but decided that this would be an opportunity for them to attain enlightenment on their own.

The young initiate simply sat in place with his meditations when he heard a rustling in the bushes…oh he knew who would come out of those bushes—it was the same routine every time! Oh well, it should be happening any second…it would not be long until the boy sprung into action to the sound of "HYAH!" filling the air and he shifted his weight in order to roll forward to dodge a bo aimed at his head so that the staff barely grazed his back. After several times of this happening, he had come to expect this from the young girl in the same robes as his that had ambushed him…which was why he had always come prepared with a bo of his own. The boy never knew why she always seemed to target him…although he simply shelved it off as her being one of the more competitive students of the monastery.

The fight continued as the boy twirled his staff into the ready position before swinging the bo to the left in order to divert the girl's attention and following through by pushing her back and finishing his combo by quickly turning and driving his staff to the ground in an angle to use as a leverage and trip her into the river. The girl knew what was happening—she had fallen for this trick before; she knew that her opponent was the sort that fought smart, hence why he was among the top tier, and so she countered by using one hand to regain her balance briefly, while the other hand holding the staff swung at his legs before using her naturally acrobatic reflexes to prop her back up in the proper stance just in time to block a heavy downward strike as the boy jumped over the swing. The next move had landed the two of them in a draw in just a split second: the boy aimed at her legs again, and this time, he kept his front leg in the half-bow stance in front of her shin with one hand holding the bo across both of her legs and the other hand at her shoulder ready to push her into the river—the girl however had driven the staff in the staff between her opponent's legs in such a manner that given the leverage in her half-bow stance, a single downward push would target his family jewels and the other hand grabbing his robe.

"That was the thousandth time you've ambushed me, and of all the times I've had this encounter with you, this is the very first time I've had to encounter a draw…you're getting better, Kisaragi Yuffie."

The girl before him was none other than Kisaragi Yuffie herself—her father, Kisaragi Godo headed the Kisaragi clan of Wutai that answered to the Oda clan in much the same manner as the Tokugawa, Hideyoshi, and Akechi clans. Oda Hisagi was said to have been a leader that sought to unify the people of the land under one banner—although he sought to do so with bloodshed, and he was determined to unify everyone under HIS banner. It made sense in the boy's eyes that she would be here in addition to teaching her martial arts, Kisaragi Godo had also wanted his daughter to be well-schooled…it would not do well for a princess to be dull, as it would not attract a possible husband—no, it would drive them away from the bedchambers due to boredom.

In a voice filled with faux frustration, Yuffie simply accepted the arm he offered as the two friends walked back to the temple…the curfew for the monks and students was that everyone was to be back at the monastery before nightfall. "Really Ying-gan, how is it that you continuously beat everyone at everything? I've even beaten the older students, yet you do it even faster than I do. You're the only person I've yet to succeed in beating."

"That's because unlike the other students, I don't just fight with my body…I also fight with my head."

"What do you mean?"

"Brute strength is an important part of any sort of combat, but even when you're weaker than everyone else, the cunning of the wolf will serve you well when you know you are facing the strength of a bear. That is why fighting with your head is a strength that is even more important than simply fighting your own body."

"Now that you mention it, it does in fact make sense…"

"I'm glad…now let's get back…I don't look forward to getting caned by the abbot for being out past the curfew."

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_**A/N: Vincent (he'll be getting that name later on) and Yuffie as little kids…and classmates in the same monastery to boot…can anybody picture that? As usual, this will stay as a single chapter until I see a respectable number of reviews…at least three or four should be convincing enough…in any case, do try to review would you kindly?**_

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_**Songs Used:**_

"_**You're the Best Around" by Joe Esposito from "The Karate Kid"—Vincent and Yuffie sparring by the river**_

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_**Culture/Vocabulary Notes:**_

_**Monastic education—in the old days, the best place to get an education was to go to a monastery or a temple; the lessons were high in discipline, but they got you thinking. This was a common practice all over the world before the separation of church and state, and China and Japan was no exception.**_

_**Kyudo—Japanese archery using a massive longbow known as a 'yumi'.**_

_**Kiai—the Japanese martial art of shouting at your opponent; the idea of this being that a well-placed shout can psyche out your enemies and get you pumped up to attack.**_

_**Kata—this is a stance taken in Japanese martial arts…each kata is a special form taken in anticipation of an attack.**_

_**Go—a Japanese board game imported from China…played using black and white pieces, and a roughly 20x20-square grid.**_

_**Shogi—the Japanese version of chess…Nara Shikamaru from "Naruto" is known to favor this game.**_

_**Bo—this is the a long staff used in martial arts**_

_**Half-bow stance—this is a martial arts stance similar to the yoga warrior pose in that the front leg is bent and the back leg is straight.**_

_**Ying-gan—the Mandarin word for "eagle eye"**_


	2. IMPORTANT!

**Greetings to the fine folk that moderate our site.**

**Myself, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.**

**For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. While I don't have anything that I believe violates your terms of use, there are those out there that are never able to recover a story in its original form, this is something I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable.**

**It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added.**

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**While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be looseing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.**

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